A league of their own
by OzGeek
Summary: Written for Semper fi sweatshirt for the 2010 NFA Secret Santa. Abby asks Tony, Ziva and McGee to fill in for her bowling team. Three Chapters.
1. Chapter 1

This story was written for Semper Fi Sweatshirt for the 2010 NFA Secret Santa fanfic exchange. To read all this years NFA secret santa stories, find the link at the top of my profile page. The requirements for this story were as follows:

_Spoilers or Season Setting: I haven't caught up with season 7._  
_Gen, Het, Slash, Mixed: I don't mind._  
_Pairings: Anything except Ziva/Gibbs, Ziva/Tim, Gibbs/Hollis and Jenny/Tony. Pretty much everything else is good including OCs._  
_Must Haves: Interaction between two or more main characters. Third person POV. Some humor even if it is in the form of sarcasm._  
_Don't Wants: Sex. Heavy violence or angst. Heavy swearing. I also hate mushy romances. Humor is good._  
_Request or Prompt: Take some of the main characters and put them in an outside the office situation that is odd and not work related, such as two of the characters ending up as partners at a golf tournament. If that doesn't inspire any muses, whatever works. I'll read pretty much anything._  
_Rating Cap: FR15_  
_Other Comments: A little OOCness is okay. However, if a character has a total attitude reversal, there'd better be a reason. I also like inside jokes that'd you'd have to pay attention to the episodes to know._

This story was inspired by the prompt and the episode Under Covers (no, not the Tiva bit) where Abby appears in her bowling outfit. The episode ends, appropriately enough, with the words "Semper Fi" – the recipient of this story. Thanks to JKM758 for both techical and US cultural help.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"Good news!" Abby enthused, bounding into the squad room.

Tony, Ziva and McGee froze solid, creating a snapshot of three stages in the NCIS packing-up- for-home routine. A silent worried glance passed around them: Abby's "news" at this hour was rarely "good" for them. The large plastic bag grasped tightly in her hand did nothing to allay their fears.

"Remember the 'Brain Check' you guys gave me when you all promised to come see Brain Matter and then bailed so you could deal with your ..." she turned pointedly to McGee, "boat phobia", then to Tony, "rat phobia", and finally to Ziva, "and ghost phobia?"

McGee glanced nervously at Abby's spiky bracelet. "Ahh yes."

"Well, now you get to pay me back."

A sea of excuses washed over the room.

"It's not a band!" Abby yelled over the noise.

Silence.

Abby's tone turned to a plea. "It's my league bowling night but Sister Rosita just called and said something really serious came up and they can't make it tonight so I don't have a team. We're on top of the ladder and we're playing the number two team and I really hate them and if I can't get a team together for tonight we'll have to forfeit the game and lose our place at the top of the board so I need you guys to come play with me."

"Oh yes!" Tony grinned, "Bowling!"

McGee heaved a resigned sigh. "Let me guess: bowling summer camp?"

"Don't be silly, Probie," Tony admonished. "Camp Pocequatic was strictly about the clogging. No, I was Captain of the Ohio State Alpha Chi Delta bowling team: fraternity bowling winners three years running." He high-fived with Abby.

"So you have a handicap?" she queried.

"Oh yeah."

There was a pause as Tony and Abby looked at Ziva and expectantly.

"Bowling is far more of a recreational activity in Israel than it is here," said Ziva, finally.

"No league?" asked Tony.

"No; no league. You would no more compete in bowling than you would compete in movie watching."

"There are movie watching competitions?"

Ziva eyed him for a moment before shaking her head in amused disbelief. "No Tony, Israel does not have championship movie watching."

"So, how good are you?" Abby probed. "Did you get all the pins down, some of them, none of them?"

Ziva's eyes flashed ruthlessly, succinctly summarising her sporting abilities.

"You're in," said Abby.

"What about you, McGutter-ball," said Tony, "a Wii bowling hero?"

"I can't... that is I haven't bowled in a very long time," said McGee uncertainly.

"I feel a phobia coming on..." said Tony. "Let me guess: found a maggot in a bowling ball? Had to bowl from a tall building? Bowling alley full of cats?"

"Stop it, Tony!" McGee snapped. "I just don't like it, OK."

"But you can learn to love it, Timmy," Abby assured him. "It's a world of calculations." She crouched next to the desk where he was sitting and looked off into the distance. Casting her hand about she urged him to share her vision. "A lane, 60 foot long, three and a half feet wide. At one end: you, at the other: ten pins, twelve inches apart. There's a single ball, 16 pounds and eight inches in diameter. You need to hit the front pocket between the two leading pins at an angle of six degrees to bowl a strike."

"But that means you'd have to stand 6.3 feet to the side. How far apart are the lanes?"

"Curve, McGee," Abby said mystically. "It's all about the spin."

She let the moment linger.

"What about friction?" said McGee, suddenly, breaking the mood.

Abby reverted to her lecture voice. "The lanes are oiled between the foul line and up to about 15 feet from the pins. That's where you do your work. Now: are you up to it as a scientific challenge?"

McGee pondered for a moment, weighing his options. He clearly did not want play but he also didn't want to get on Abby's bad side – again. "Will there be computer games?"

"Gears of War," she confirmed. She whispered mischievously in his ear. "I might even show you my new tattoo."

"OK I'm in," he relented, "but I still can't bowl."

Abby straightened and looked around her new team mates. "It doesn't matter if you can't bowl, McGee, we work on handicaps. All newbies get 60: house rules. I don't need great bowlers. I just need four people in matching pink skull jackets."

There was a pause.

"In what?" said Tony.

"We're a team," said Abby. "We wear the team jacket." She opened up her plastic bag and pulled out a pink jacket."I've just been round to the convent to pick them up."

"Well they must have been hard to find, camouflaged in all those nun habits," Tony commented, taking one of the jackets out of the bag for himself and holding it up for inspection. "And pink is soooo my color."

"Pink wasn't my idea," Abby pointed out. "But if three nuns can wear them and still look kick-ass pious then so can you, DiNozzo. Suck it up."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Four vibrantly pink people stood outside the bowling alley.

"I feel ridiculous," grumbled McGee.

"That's because you're a grown man stuck in a pink skull jacket five sizes too small for you, Probie," said Tony.

McGee had been trying to force his arms into the woman's size jacket. By the time he realised he was never going to make it, his elbows were bent at right angles and his hands were deformed into claw shapes.

"You look like a Scooby-doo villain about to chase 'those meddling kids'," Tony joked.

"There aren't many 6ft tall nuns." Abby pointed out, helping to extract McGee's arms from the sleeves. "The girls were nice enough to lend you their jackets, you should be thankful."

Tony wrapped the arms of his jacket around his neck and let the giant skull motif drape across his back. "I'll thank them later."

"Well, I think they are inspirational," Ziva remarked. Her jacket was a perfect fit. She spanned her arms wide so she could absorb the full pink effect. "For example, this jacket inspires me to kill something: pins, patrons, anything."

"At least she didn't make us wear the whole outfit," McGee mumbled.

The three agents looked at Abby and shuddered. She was indeed sporting the full ensemble: a 1950s inspired brilliant pink and black twin set, green skeleton poodle skirt and matching pink bowling bag with a skull emblazoned on it. Her hair was decorated with a pink scarf and she topped it off with black 1950s cats-eyes glasses.

"You know, I could really do with a nice loud rock concert about now Abby," said Tony.

"You blew your chance, mister."

"But it was a case," McGee whined.

"Enough!" Abby commanded. "We have to get you guys some bowling alley issue shoes and balls before the big game."

* * *

Four people in vibrantly pink jackets stood at the counter inside the bowling alley. One wore shiny blue and red personalised bowling shoes and carried a pink skull bowling bag. The other three wore ill-fitting, battered, bi-coloured, numbered rental bowling shoes and carried numbered plastic balls peppered with pockmarks. Two of them wore their jackets as capes.

"I feel ridiculous," McGee reiterated as the group trundled after Tony towards their assigned lane.

"No one will ever know, Probie," Tony reminded him. Suddenly, he froze in his tracks, causing a multi-agent pile-up behind him.

"What?" asked McGee, pushing Tony a little forward and helping Ziva up off the floor.

"Over there," Tony pointed a wavering finger in the direction of the lanes.

"Oh," said Abby lightly, "didn't I mention who we were playing tonight? Must have slipped my mind."

"Slipped your mind!" said Tony incredulously. "Snore-nell, Slacks and those other two FBI peeping toms..."

"Maya and Yussif," Ziva supplied.

"Gesundheit," said Tony absently. "Abs, you could have mentioned we were playing the FBI."

Abby smiled sweetly. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you did."

"Don't let them get to you," said Abby dismissively. "Sacks is pretty goods and Fornell can hold his own but the other two are just along for the ride."

"I don't want Fornell to see me like this," Tony moaned, holding up the pink sleeves of his jacket. "I have a reputation to uphold."

"Ziva, quick," McGee whispered, trying to get out of Abby's earshot but failing. "Assassinate me."

"I can not, McGee," Ziva rasped back. "I am too busy trying to remember my suicide training. If you stand close, I promise to take you with me."

"Hey," said Tony indignantly. "We're a team, here."

"Thank you, Tony," said Abby.

Tony shot Abby a puzzled look and appealed to Ziva. "You have to take me out too."

"Tony!" Abby narrowed her eyes threateningly.

But it was too late; the FBI team had spotted them.

"Nice cape, DiNozzo," said a familiar voice.

"You still out of jail?" said Sacks.

"Didn't recognize them with their clothes on," Maya remarked, turning her back on them to extract her bright sliver bowling ball.

The NICS team examined the back of her jacket. No pink skull jackets for the FBI, they had striking (no pun intended) silver jackets with large guns emblazoned on the back. Underneath the picture was the motto: FBI: Federal Bowling Intimidators.

"Well, Miss Scuito," Fornell began philosophically. "I was sort of hoping you would have to forfeit tonight but this will be much more satisfying. We've may have lost to your flying nuns and even to your little person boyfriend but there is no way known we're going to lose to the NCIS amateur hour. How many of you are using bumpers tonight?"

"Scoff if you will Agent Fornell," Abby challenged. "But we have two advantages: Handicaps..."

"I'll say."

"And our coach."

"Our what?" said Tony.

"Coach," said Gibbs.

Gibbs was wearing his conventional jeans and denim shirt with white T-shirt just peaking out the front but all that paled into insignificance by the pink skull jacket with the word "COACH" embroidered on the front.

"Nice outfit, Leroy," Fornell commented.

Gibbs raised a wry eyebrow. "Bring it on, Tobias."

Fornell turned to Abby. "Ladies first."

Abby smiled smugly as she slid her pink skull bowling ball out of her pink skull bowling bag. "When it comes to bowling," she said slyly, "I am no lady."

Abby's ball thundered down the lane and the pins exploded at the other end.

"Hmm," Ziva mused, watching Abby's ball. "Striking the pins with a ball is such a slow process. I could take them out faster with a gun – or even a handful of knives."

"Yes," said Tony, taking up his rental ball. "Knife bowling: the game the whole family can enjoy."

Tony's bowl was long and smooth, curing deftly to leave a wide split.

"Nice gap," Fornell commented.

"Warm-up ball," said Tony casually while he waited for his ball to return. When it popped its head out of the ball return, he swooped on it and, in one fluid motion, turned, walked and bowled. The ball swerved, clung to the edge of the lane then swung in late to clip one pin and ricochet it into the other.

Tony smiled sweetly at Fornell on his way to his seat. "College league bowling captain," he said. "You're up Ziva."

Ziva took a deep breath, picked up her ball and turned to face the pins. "This would be so much easier with a small incendiary device," she muttered as she attacked. The ball curved gently and took eight pins down with it. A ninth wobbled precariously, seemed to get its act together and then, inexplicably, fell over.

"Stop glaring at the pins, Jethro," Fornell warned.

Gibbs shot him an innocent look while simultaneously bumping victory knuckles with Abby.

Fornell rose from his seat and went to stand next to Gibbs. He folded his arms defiantly. "I have glare blocking vibes," he explained.

Ziva missed the spare, but not by much and took her seat. For a moment all was silent.

"Probie," Tony prompted.

Nothing.

"Hey, Elf Lord," said Gibbs.

McGee started guiltily. He had been watching the computer games at the back of the alley. "What?"

"You bowling?"

"Me? I'm not sure I can do this."

Tony pulled him to a reluctant stand. "Come on, Probie, if Ziva can get nine on her first league bowling ball with nothing but an inbuilt killer instinct, years of high level physical training and a Gibbs' death stare then you can too."

"I'm really not good at this."

"This from the man who dropped half his body weight in a single holiday, turned Cugo into a house pet, hacked the pentagon..."

"Excuse me?" Fornell interrupted.

"You," Tony summarized, slapping McGee on the shoulder and guiding him to his bowling ball, "are a man who achieves the impossible."

Suitably motivated, McGee nodded at Tony, picked up his ball and rolled it straight into the gutter without touching the lane.

"That's impossible," Tony whispered as they watched the ball wobble its way slowly towards certain death.

With Tony stunned, Ziva took up the challenge. "It is just like throwing a knife..." she began.

"It kills people slowly in a pool of blood?"

"It is all in the wrist."

"You've seen my knife throw."

"You knife aim was true, your rotation was off. Rotation will not be a problem here. Forget swing, just aim and shoot like a computer game."

McGee's next shot was true and took out the middle four pins. It wasn't much, but it was a start.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Com'on, Probie," Tony urged. "Just one strike and you'll break 70."

The game was surprisingly tight. Sacks and Fornell were clearly the strongest bowlers in the FBI team but, as Abby had said, Maya and Yussif were only marginally better than McGee.

Gibbs had spent considerable time with McGee explaining and demonstrating bowling techniques but he also watched and analysed every ball bowled by the team making suggestions and utilizing his death glare on the more recalcitrant pins.

Abby sidled up to McGee has he held his bowling ball, mournfully looking down the length of the lane. "All we need is five pins, Timmy and we beat their smug FBI butts."

McGee slid his eyes towards her.

"..and my new tattoo is in a place few have been," Abby smiled.

* * *

"It's not all bad," said McGee to Tony as the NCIS team walked out into the car park sans pink jackets. "I may have lost the game, shattered Abby's hopes and dreams, ruined my chance of ever seeing her tattoo and inflated the FBI's already excessive egos but Jill at the counter just gave me her phone number."

"You don't want to make that call, Probie," Tony warned.

"Why not?"

"We came here on a case once. Kate called her a 'calculating witch'."

"Witch?"

"Witch – that was her professional profiler opinion."

McGee tore up the piece of paper. "So there are no redeeming features to today."

"Not true," said Abby, bringing them all to a halt. "Because the score were so close, my team only lost a few points for that game. We would have lost a whole lot more points if I'd had to forfeit. I couldn't have done it without you guys."

She hugged Tony. "Thank you for using your super frat bowling powers to help me."

She hugged Ziva. "Thank you for using your super killer instincts to help me."

She hugged Gibbs. "Thank you for using your mighty death stare to help me."

She looked at McGee.

"...And I think I'll miss you most of all scarecrow," said Tony.

Abby ignored him. "Thank you for bowling for me, even though I know you hate it and you suck at it and you'll never, ever get to see my new tattoo."

She stood back and looked at them all. "I couldn't have found any better bowlers in the whole building."

"Is that Ducky's Morgan?" said Tony, suddenly.

The classic car pulled up in a parking space near the huddled group. There was a pause and both doors opened.

"We've been doing this for years, Mr Palmer, it's always a left turn," said Ducky as he clambered out of the car. "Even when our match is rescheduled to a different day, it is still a left turn. I hope your bowling direction is better than your driving directions."

"I have a 240 average," Palmer complained, "and you were driving."

"But you were...Jethro, what are you doing here?"

"Helping out Abby."

"Well, maybe we can call upon you lot when Mr Palmer is having one of his off days."

"Turn around Palmer," said Tony suddenly. Grasping Palmer by both shoulders, Tony spun him on the spot. Together, the agents read the logo on the back of his bowling jacket.

"The Death Squad?" said McGee.

"Yes," Ducky confirmed. "We're a team of medical examiners." He pointed to the picture on Palmer's jacket. Our mascot is a skeleton who bowls with his own hand."

Sure enough, the motif depicted a one handed skeleton in a bowling pose and a set of pins being struck by a hand.

"Another one bites the dust," Ziva read the motto underneath the picture.

"Yes. Not my idea, of course," said Ducky. "Some MEs are very strange. Well, come on Mr Palmer or we'll be late."

Palmer turned to face the group, a large grin on his face. "That's funny because we'll be late and we're MEs and..." he met a sea of blank stare and his grin evaporated, "never mind."

But Abby was looking at Fornell as the FBI team emerged victorious from the bowling alley. Her eyes narrowed. "What made you think we might have to forfeit?"

"That reminds me," said Fornell suddenly. He pulled out his cell phone and hit a single speed dial button. "Frank, you can let the nuns go now."

Gibbs leaned over to murmur in Abby's ear. "There's a reason why people hate him, Abs."

* * *

-The End-


End file.
